A Stark Contrast To The Expected
by Buckets-Of-Stars
Summary: When Peter and Tony leave the Annual Stark Charity Event, they are expecting a relatively quiet night in the Tower, away from the invasive crowds and news reporters. But when they become the subject of a man's drunken hatred, things quickly take a turn for the worst.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guy! This was sent to me as a prompt on Archive Of Our Own, but I am just getting around to posting it here. I have all of the Chapters written already, and you can visit me on AO3 Buckets_Of_Stars to see the full story if you want. I hope you enjoy!:)**

 **This is dedicated to DoctorsBadWolf on AO3.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.**

The chandeliers that hang from the high ceiling vibrate against the low thumping of the bass, the smell of expensive perfume and poorly hidden body sweat causing Peter's nose to wrinkle. He shifts on his feet, leaning against the side of the clothe covered glass table, the dull edge pressing against his ribs, causing him to wince.

Running his fingers through his slicked back hair, the teen grimaces at the feeling of the jell his father wrestled him into getting squeezed between his fingers. Looking around quickly, Peter discreetly reaches under the table, and grabbing the edge of table clothe, rubs the offending hair product off of his hand, hoping that the blue tinge wouldn't be noticeable. Breathing out a sigh, he lifts his eyes up and searches the growling crowd for the familiar spiked up black hair.

His stomach clenches when his dad is no where in sight, and his movements because slightly more panicked as he continues to search. The white glow of the decorative lights are suddenly becoming to much for his senses, the clanking of the glasses and the chatter of the guests becoming muffled noise in the background as he staggers forward.

Peter barely gets more then a foot away from his hiding place in the corner when a warm hand suddenly claps onto his dress shirt clad shoulder. The teenager flinches backwards, almost tripping over his own feet in his surprise as people begin to notice his presence.

"-eter?" A voice softly asks, and brown eyes dart up to meet his dad's worried gaze. "Peter, baby, are you okay?"

Peter quickly nods, feeling his face heat up as the guests coo in the background. Fighting against the urge to cuddle into his father's side, he curls his fingers around the cuff of Tony's dress shirt, the plastic buttons digging into his palm. A silent message seems to pass between the two of them, the billionaire's frown deepening as he takes in his son's anxiety induced state, the trembling in his small hands causing his daddy's black sleeves to ruffle.

"Do we need to leave now, honey?" Tony whispers quietly, already beginning to lead them through the thick crowd. Peter just nods softly, feeling like a little kid that got lost in the mall. His dad doesn't even blink, knowing that making a joke would not help the situation in anyway.

Passing an elderly man with graying hair, Peter is shocked when his father doesn't stop to shake the man's offered hand, the billionaire turning around to flash him a blinding smile, all white teeth and Stark charm.

"Sorry about this, Mr. Mayor." He says, clutching Peter closer to his side as they push through the crowd. "Junior here had to much cake, and you know how kids get. . ."

The man, who Peter now recognizes as Mayor Kingsley, waves them off, his green eyes lit up in mirth, raising his half full glass in a salute before he drowns the alcohol like it is apple juice.

"Get your boy home, Tony!" Is all he says, voice starting to slur at the edges, before the laughter of the people next to him drowns him out.

The two Starks reach the door of the party room without incident, Tony holding it open and gently pushing his son through with a callused hand on his back. Peter walks over the threshold, already feeling the dizzy tingling of his senses start to fizzle down as his dad pulls him close, wrapping his strong arms around his slightly trembling frame. Closing his eyes, the 15 year old rests his head against his father's white shirt, breathing in the smell of his aftershave and motor grease that seems to cling to his skin no matter what he is wearing. They stay that way for a few seconds, Tony slowly rocking them from side to side when Peter cuddles closer.

"We are going to go home now, Peter." The Elder Stark says, pulling away from the embrace and cupping his baby's face in his hands.

Peter frowns, reaching up and grasping Tony's fingers. He opens his mouth to protest, but his dad beats him to it. "No arguing, Pete. We are going to go back to the Tower, get into comfy Pajamas, put on a Disney movie, and eat all the ice cream in the fridge."

"B-but that's like 20 cartons!" Peter giggles, smiling broadly when his daddy smacks a wet kiss on his forehead. "And I thought I had to much 'cake' already?"

Tony chuckles, wrapping a strong arm around his baby's waist as they start to walk toward the exit, the sound of music and drunken laughter muffled as they get farther away from the chaotic charity event. "One thing you can never have, sweetheart, is too much desert!"

Peter nods, his heart feeling lighter then it had all night, his nerves now as soft as butter and his hands steady as he lets his father ground him back to reality.

But just as they are about to walk out of the fancy hotel, the night air cool as it gets blown in, the scents of due and pure New York air filling up Peter's nose, he makes the mistake of looking back over his daddy's shoulder.

A man stands at the door of the ball room, his blond hair falling to cover one red hued grey eye, swaying in time with the rapid beating of the drums and the loud shriek of the guitar. His reflection is warped by the glass separating them, his dress shirt and tie seeming to shift to the right, while the rest of his body is to the left. He is holding a wine glass, the red liquid sloshing out of the rim and landing with a splash on the marble floor. He smiles cruelty at Peter, his teeth flashing in the neon lights of the disco, his face like the hard marble of ancient Roman statues. He raises one wine soaked hand in a imitation of a friendly wave, his spilled alcohol dripping down his fingers and mixing with the puddle on the floor. Peter grips his daddy's hand tighter, feeling the elder Stark pull him even closer in response, kissing the top of his head in comfort as they step out.

The last thing Peter sees before his dad leads him out of the hotel is the man's glazed eyes following his every move.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey lovely readers! Here is Chapter 2 for you!:)**

 **Dedicated to DoctorsBadWolf on AO3.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.**

When they walk out into the parking lot, the night air cool and fresh against Peter's heated skin, the black limo that dropped them off is sitting in front of the building, the multi-colored lights of the hotel and street lamps being reflected off of it's shiny surface.

Happy steps out of the drivers side, his face a mask of annoyance and irritation as he walks around the car to open the door for both father and son. Tony, after giving his assistant a nod in thanks, slips silently into the vehicle, making sure to scoot over to give Peter some room. The teen is just about to climb in himself when Happy's voice stops him.

"You okay, kid?"

When Peter looks up at the man, the lamp overhead casting half his face in shadow, the spiderling is pleasantly surprised at the look of concern he can see in Happy's normally closed off eyes. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, the 15 year old nods stiffly, sitting back against his father as Tony shifts.

"I'm fine, Uncle Happy." Peter whispers just as the door closes, the soft click sounding loud to his heightened ears.

Giving a sigh, the teenager rests his head on his daddy's shoulder, trying to block the image of the creepy man out of his thoughts. Tony just pulls him closer, kissing the top of his head as they pull out of the semi-crowded parking lot, the speed bumps jolting them around.

"What Disney movie do you want to watch?" His dad's voice is a low humming, his deeper tone a vibration against Peter's ear as he fiddles with the brass buttons on his dress shirt.

The younger Stark shrugs, shivering slightly from the cold air of the A.C. as it turns on, a brown curl falling from behind his ear and resting on his forehead. Tony gently brushes it off, leaning down and turning the nod to the OFF setting as they stop at a stoplight, the red traffic signal flashing overhead.

"I was thinking maybe Tangled, or Brave." Peter quietly suggests, wincing at the loud engine of a truck as it whooshes by, passing the white line just as the light changes to green once again.

Ignoring the grumbling of Happy about crazy drivers and how he doesn't get paid enough for this, Tony smirks, face lighting up in amusement when he speaks.

"Princess movies? Pshh, nah!" He flicks his wrist, as though throwing away a piece of trash. Peter just watches him with an offended expression, his big doe eyes as wide as saucers. "What you and me need to watch, Pete, is Cars."

The teen just blinks at him for a few seconds, his shoulder bumping against his dad's as they turn a corner. Finally, he lets out a sharp laugh, reaching up to cover his mouth as he snorts.

"Of course you would want to watch Cars, dad!" Giggling quietly, Peter adjusts the seat belt strap, the imprint of the leather a red line across his neck.

Raising his hand dramatically to his chest, the billionaire gaps in mock shock, his brown eyes opening comically wide. "I will have you know that the concept of talking cars with human emotions is very intriguing to me. I mean, think of the possibilities!"

"But you already have F.R.I.D.A.Y, and your Iron Man suit."

"Does F.R.I.D.A.Y look like a car to you?"

They continue to bicker that way for the next few blocks, Peter waving his hands dramatically as he tries to prove his point, Tony watching him with warm eyes. Finally, the elder takes pity on his frustrated child, grasping his smaller hands when they start to wave around again.

"Alright," he says, and sighs like it is the hardest decision of his life. "I guess we can watch Knotted."

"It's called _Tangled_ , Dad!"

"Same difference."

Smiling at his father's forced stupidity, Peter turns his head to stare out the tinted window, a thin layer of fog making the outside lights shine like small suns as they illuminate their portion of the street. Half listening as Tony rambles on about adjectives and "it's not my fault all the titles sound the same now!" the teenager shifts in his seat, feeling his face heat up as his bladder makes itself known. Turning around quickly, Peter turns on his puppy dog eyes to max level as his dad continues to babble.

"Hey- uh- dad?" He asks hesitantly, his gaze falling to settle on his black dress pants as his father stops mid-sentence. "I- um- really need to pee."

"Can't you wait just-Happy, how much longer do we have?!" Without turning his head, the billionaire shouts up to his driver, snickering when the grumpy man jumps in fright.

"25 minutes, _Jesus Christ!_ "

"Tony will do just fine, thanks." Smiling at Peter when he laughs, the man suddenly becomes serious again. "Can't you just wait 25 more minuets?"

The teenager frowns in thought, shifting again and nearly groaning when the similar ache fills his lower stomach. "Umm, no. Isn't there like a gas station around here we can stop at or something?"

Turning his big pleading eyes upwards, Peter nearly grins in delight when he sees his father's face start to crack, his dark brows drawing together. Finally, the older Stark lets out a huff of annoyance.

"Those big brown eyes will be the death of me. Happy?!" He barks out, flashing the latter a charming smile when he catches his eyes in the review mirror.

"Yes, my Lord?" The man drawls out, nose wrinkling in sarcasm.

"Har har. Could you stop us at the next test stop? Peter here has to go take a leak."

Blushing, Peter ducks his head in mortification when Happy's dark eyes dart over to meet his, squinting in mirth, before falling back to the road once more. He doesn't say anything, and the teen breathes out a sigh of relief when they make a left turn into a gas station, the neon yellow sign stinging his eyes. Happy suddenly makes a sharp right turn, causing Peter to almost hit his head against the window as they pull into gas pump #8. Tony glares at his assistant, leaning over to tilt his baby's head to check for a bruise. Finding none, the elder Stark gently smooths down the tussled locks, smiling softly when his son leans into the touch.

The moment is ruined, however, when Tony's door is suddenly thrown open by Mr. Cheerful himself. The driver crosses his arms over his chest as the two Starks slowly climb out of the vehicle. Making sure to keep one hand on Peter's arm, Tony quickly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a $20, handing it to Happy.

"What do you want me to do with this?" The man asks, taking the offered bill even as he complains.

"I don't know, Happy! Just-" looking around quickly, the billionaire spots an advertisement for the Big Beefy Burrito hanging crookedly on the wall of the mini mart, the glow of the open sign illuminating the words every few seconds. "Go get yourself a burrito or something."

Happy grimaces, shaking his head as Peter shifts from foot to foot, looking around the abandoned parking lot. "I'm just going to fill up the car."

"Good job." Tony snarks back, turning away from his assistant as he starts to feed the gas pump the money.

"Can I go pee now?" Peter asks, trying, and failing, to keep the whine from his voice. He makes a move as to walk in the direction of the small market, the promise of sweet relief sealing his resolve.

Tony, taking in the sight of 2 buff guys smoking cigars in front of the door of the station, and frowning at the though of sending his child in there alone. Leading. Peter by the shoulder, the billionaire walks quickly up the curd, helping to steady his son when he trips.

"Wait, you're coming with me?" Peter asks as they walk through the doors, shivering as the cool, refrigerated air settles on his skin.

"Well, after shaking hands all night and touching drinks from who knows where, I figured I had better wash my hands before we got back home. And since you have to go to the bathroom anyway, I thought I could kill two birds with one stone."

Nearly sighing in relief when Peter nods, Tony places a protective hand on his son's back, subconsciously putting himself in-between his baby and the creepy man he spots standing near the counter. The man's grey eyes follow their every movement, his white shirt dotted with what looks like spilled wine, blond hair unkept and greasy in the iridescent lights. They pass without a word, Peter never even turning his head in the stalker's direction, all his limited teenage focus on the wooden door at the back of the store. But Tony sees, and lifting his lips up, he snarls at the man when he looks his child up and down like a prized ham. The blond just smirks, turns around abruptly and stumbling out, his gait much to sporadic and clumsy to be considered sober. He makes his way to an old blue pickup truck that is sitting in the back corner, away from the limited light of the faded street lamps.

And didn't Tony know that truck from somewhere? Looking back on it, the superhero realizes that it was the same truck that almost ran a red light a few streets back. Shaking his head at the coincidence, Tony lets go of Peter as they stop in front of the door, the teenager hurrying inside and immediately stopping at a stall. The Billionaire walks in at a slower pace, taking the time to look at the door handle before it closes behind them.

The lock is on the outside.

Shrugging once, Tony quickly makes his way over to the sink in the corner, turning the tap on. Drumming his fingers on his thighs, he waits for the water to warm as Peter finished his personal duties, the flush of the urinal loud in the silence of the restroom. Tony speaks as he rises the soap from his now clean hands.

"Okay, Peter, lets make this quick. The faster we get out of here, the faster we can watch our mov-"

A soft clink interrupts his sentence, and both father and son look at the door. Peter, feeling suddenly sick, his spider senses tingling, steps out of the stall, walking over to his daddy. Tony is quick to offer comfort, squeezing his child's shoulder as he quickly washes his hands. Once Peter has dried his shaking hands, the Billionaire creeps closer to the door, the teenager following close behind, his daddy's dark dress coat clutched between his fingers.

"It's ok honey, it was probably just-" Tony starts to say, raising his hand to the metal handle, the steel warm to the touch. He tries to turn it, twisting it left and right with all his strength. "What the hell?"

"Let me try." Peter says, and his father reluctantly moves to the side, keeping a firm arm around his waist in case of danger. The teen tries to pull of the metal, bending it with his super strength, until it suddenly snaps off with a load pop, pulling Peter back with the force.

Giving a small shout, the younger Stark is caught by his dad's strong arms before he hits the ground. Holding up the now bent and broken door handle, Peter raises his eyebrows, biting his lip in-between his front teeth.

"Oops."

Snorting at the guilty look in his child's coco colored eyes, Tony reluctantly pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding Happy's number with ease. Lifting his finger to his lips, the billionaire silently communicates his request for silence as the phone starts to ring. Peter nods, lifting his arms up and begins to climb the wall, checking in all the corners for any possibles escape route. Finding none, the teenager silently slips to the floor just as the cell phone stops ringing.

"I know I don't pay you as well as some of my other staff, but you could at least pick up the phone a little faster." Tony says, feeling his shoulders loosen as he pulls his son close, the phone held up to his right ear.

His stomach drops however, as muffled screaming and a moan of pain filters through the speaker. Peter, starting to shake as connection is suddenly lost, curls up closer to his father as the man dials Happy's number again, his movements not as sure and steady this time. Running his hand through his hair, the once playboy nearly groans in frustration and fear as the phone beeps, unresponsive and useless in his hand. Slipping the electronic device back into his pocket, Tony wraps both arms around his little boy's waist, feeling his son go limp at the comforting touch. Speaking softly into the slightly curly brown hair, the superhero begins to reassure his frightened boy.

"It's alright baby. Happy is probably just playing a little trick on us. Getting back on us for replacing his shampoo with Nair a few months ago." Tony expects a laugh, but is disappointed to feel his baby's small body start to shake, tears wet against his shirt. "Please don't cry, Pete. I promise, everything is going to be ok."

A startled gasp from the shivering bundle in his arms has him whipping around, pushing his baby behind him in case someone was attacking them. He doesn't see anything at first, the wood still the same as it was 5 minutes ago, but as he watches, an small curl of red-orange light begins to flicker at the bottom of the entryway.

 _Fire._ His mind supplies as he starts to back away, keeping Peter protectively behind him the whole time. They reach the far wall in a few steps, the tile wall stained and chipping. Wrapping himself around his now sobbing child, feeling tears fill his eyes as Peter clutches him in terror, the two Starks watch in silent horror as the flames begin to eat away at the door, sparks flying up and smoke filling the air.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**

 **This is also dedicated to all of the innocent lives lost in the vicious attack on the United States of America on September 11, 2001. _We will never forget._**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here is Chapter 3 for you guys! I hope you enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.**

If it wasn't for the complete and utter terror freezing the blood in his veins, Peter could have called the flames beautiful.

They rose and fell with grace and accuracy, almost like a dancer, surging forward a few inches, before dropping back, as though unsure. Black smoke, as thick as tar and just as dark, spills from the peaks of the heated mountains, crossing the room on an invisible breeze, and fogging in front of their faces, making it hard to breathe. The orange light illuminating from the swaying towers casts flickering shadows on the walls, his father's wide eyes reflecting the flames as he tightens his hold on Peter.

"Dad-" pausing to cough as he inhales a lung full of smoke, the teen squints against the tears of pain and fear as he looks up, "Daddy, what are we going to do?"

"I-I don't know, sweetheart." Tony whispers, voice cracking.

Stifling a sob, Peter buries his face against his father's chest, the arc reactor a soft blue glow against his cheek, trying to block the heat of the fire and the smoke that begins to restrict his breathing. Tony just pulls him even closer, settling the sniffling boy in his lap, farthest away from the unbearable heat. Lifting his head, the billionaire looks all around the small room, taking in each corner and nearly crying in relief when he finds it.

A tiny enclave, about 6 feet off the ground, barely big enough for a person to stand on, sits against the right corner. It might have once been a sort of shelf, but after many years of disuse, rust and mildew had accumulated on the top, resulting in a sickening green layer of grime. Looking back at the slowly approaching flames, Tony gently pries his child's face away from his chest, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears falling from his doe eyes.

Pointing with one slightly trembling hand, the older Stark makes sure to keep his voice steady and soothing. "Alright, Peter. You see that ledge over there? I'm going to need you to climb up there and _stay put_ , okay?"

The teenager blinks a few times, reaching up to grasp at his dad's shirt collar when the words register. He shakes his head quickly, the movement panicked and hysterical as he sobs.

" _No_! Wh-what about y-you?"

"I will be fine, baby. I need y-"

Standing up suddenly, the teenager shakes in a mixture of rage and fear. Reaching out to grab at Tony's hands, he pulls them toward himself, interlocking their fingers and tightening his grip.

"N-no, I need you to trust me! I can lift us both up there, away from the fire. Just please," Peter breaks off with a sob, the smoke sticky as it settles across his dry tongue. His father pulls him back into his arms, backing away when the fire a few feet away makes a mighty leap forward.

"Nope, no way. I need you up on that ledge in the next 5 seconds or I will personally haul your ass up there with my bear hands." Tony says, his voice hard, but hands soft as they gently rub soothing circles across his child's tense back. "You need to hur-"

He is suddenly 6 feet off the ground, Peter's hands holding him up by his arms as the teen braces himself against the wall, his now bare feet flat against the smooth tile. Tony's feet, flailing for a heart stopping second, find their way onto the ledge, his toes pointed outwards, the black leather reflecting the white of the fire that rages under them. Swallowing back a scream of frustration, the billionaire grips his child's hands as Peter pulls him closer.

" _Peter, Jesus fucking Christ!_ " His voice raspy, Tony turns his head to speak behind him, half his son's terrified and slightly proud face coming into view. "I fucking told you- _I told you_ to leave me down there and for you to come up here, where it is safe!"

"B-but now w-we are both sa-safe!" The teenager protests, licking his lips as the air becomes hotter and hotter.

"There is no way-you can't hold us both up here for long, Peter." Tony says, and the 15 year old scoffs, opening his mouth to protest, but his father beats him. "I know, I know! _Super strength._ But what do you think happens to your powers when your body weakens?"

Tony can feel his son's mouth open and close behind his back as he searches for an answer. Finally, thin shoulders lift in a shrug of defeat and the Billionaire sighs.

"Your powers weaken, Pete."

The superhero waits for the usual snark, the optimism that seems to pour out of Peter like water from a fountain, but all he gets is a cry in return, the firm pressure of his baby's head against his back signaling the younger's already weakened state. But his hands, soft from a life not filled with hardships (a life not like Tony's), grip his arms even tighter, the unintentional challenge being excepted with unwavering resolve. The back of Tony's expensive dress shirt is slowly getting soaked with tears, the feeling of Peter's sobs against his shoulder blades shaking him to his very core. God, he wants to comfort him. Wants to take away the pain and the fear and go somewhere _safe._ But for now, all Tiny can do is listen and feel, making soothing sounds in the back of his throat when the fear gets to be too much.

The flames, when he turns his head to check, are about halfway across the room now, the sink and mirror slowly turning dark as the destructive matter eats it away. They taunt him, the flames, stalking them as though they are prey, and it a hungry predator. Never moving to close, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

A sudden slack in the hold on his arms has him flinching, reaching up to grip Peter's arms on instinct as they fall slightly forward. The teen lets out a muffled curse, his fingers curling as he adjusts his grip again, the shaking in his hands like a red flag to his father's mind.

"Peter, h-honey, you have-have to let me do-down now." The elder Stark huffs, the lack of oxygen making his head fuzzy and eyes sting.

Giving a yell of agitation, the spiderling ignores his daddy, choosing to tighten his grip even more when Tony struggles a little.

"N-no! I can d-do this! I can-"

They fall without warning. The ledge, from a standing view, is not that tall, but when falling from that height, it seems to take a million years. As he goes down, Tony watches Peter's face the whole time, seeing the emotions of anger and fear flash across, before they hit the ground. The impact knocks out what little air the Billionaire has in his lungs, and gasping, the once playboy lays there. The ringing in his ears, when he gathers the courage to move a few seconds later, is the only real injury he sustained from the fall, aside from the huge bruise he knows is going to form on his face and knees. Shaking his head, the genius is suddenly aware of loud, high pitched _screaming,_ the sound sending his skin crawling.

His heart creeping up his throat, Tony moves his slightly foggy gaze toward his legs. And his breathe stops.

Peter is sprawled out, his body covering his father's legs from the impact. He is sitting up, clutching his toward his chest as his mouth opens wide, another almost animalistic call echoing through the room. His right foot, when Tony can see it, is twisted to an almost animated level, a little nub of bone peaking out of the bleeding flesh of his ankle. The teen lets out another scream when Tony moves, and the superhero wants to scream too. Putting his frustrations aside, the elder scoots closer to his baby, feeling his face go pale when he realizes how close the flames were to them now.

Reaching out with shaking hands, the once playboy gently grabs onto his child's shivering body, cupping his damp and red cheeks with strong hands. Foggy brown eyes slowly raise to meet his, and Peter makes a wounded noise.

"I-I'm sorry, Daddy! I'm so s-sorry! I-I tried to-to hold on, bu-but I got so tired an-and I _just want you to hold me and make it better!"_ The 15 year old whimpers, reaching out and wrapping his arms tight around his father's neck. His breathe is ragged against Tony's skin, and the genius is suddenly struck by how much smoke is actually in the room.

"Hey, shhhh, it's ok-okay sweetheart. We are g-going to be fin-fine, I pro-promise baby boy. Daddy's here, Daddy's right here, Pe-Peter." Tony reassures his shaking child, running his fingers through the now greasy curls as he slowly checks on Peter's broken leg.

Sighing in defeat, the superhero knows that there is nothing he can do about the breakage, and hopes against all hope that his son's fast acting healing abilities were muted from the lack of air. He knows that if the foot were to try and mend itself now, it would just fuse together wrong, and doctors will have to re-break the bone, leading to a higher risk of complications and physical therapy. Turning away from the still bleeding appendage, Tony focuses on Peter's raspy breathing, knowing that his own breathing is just as bad.

Quickly stripping his expensive black dress jacket off, the Billionaire carelessly rips away a thick strip of it, the fabric tearing like butter as his parental instincts scream at him. Taking the clothe, Tony carefully lifts his son's head from his lap, ignoring the muffled noise of protest as he ties a knot in the back, safely securing the makeshift mask onto his baby's red face. Peter's eyes are wide, and he makes a quick motion with his hands, trying to indicate that Tony should do the same. Giving a huff at his child's stubborn and protective streak, (I wonder where he got that from?) the father quickly makes a mask for himself, tying it off just as the first of the flames laps at him arm.

Flinching away out of instinct, Tony quickly puts himself in-between his baby and the wall of fire, feeling the heat start to burn the clothes from his back. The pain increasing, the Billionaire lets out a soft groan of agony. But just as the pain started to make his vision go white, it is gone. Opening his blurry eyes, Tony makes a sharp sound of protest as Peter shifts their positions, his teeth gritting at the pain in his leg and the burning of the flames. Once he knows that his dad is safe does the young boy close his eyes, the black fabric shifting in front of his mouth as he tries to suck in Oxygen. Tony, weakly grabbing his little boy under his arms, makes one last weak pull, using up the last of his strength to push himself overtop of his child, using himself as a shield against the raging fire.

"I l've yo' Pete." He whispers against his child's forehead, feeling his heart break when his son weakly squeezes closer to him, burying his face in the now burnt white shirt the superhero wears.

"I l-love yo-you too, Daddy." The small boy whispers, voice muffled and tone scratchy from the putrid air.

Just as the heat become too much, just as his breathing starts to slow to only a breathe every few seconds, Peter's heart still strong and steady against his chest, does Tony hear the voice.

"Mr. Stark, we came to help you, hold on. . ."

Weakly opening his burning eyes, the genius watches as a fire fighter steps through the hole he made in the wall. Several more vaguely human shaped forms step inside after them, hosing down the flames with white foam as they pick their way over to the corner.

Head swimming, Tony gives one sigh of relief, resting his head back against his now still child's forehead. The last thing he sees before the world goes black is the man's kind green eyes, his face covered with ash, and his hand outstretched to pull both father and son to safely.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here is Chapter 4 for you guys!:) I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.**

Tony feels them getting lifted, the fabric of the firefighter's rough uniform scratching the raw skin on his arms as the oppressive heat of the flames are extinguished. Fighting to regain consciousness, the Billionaire squints his red rimmed eyes open as he is set on a mobile cot, Peter's weight soothing against his chest as he feels his boy tighten his grip on his neck. The teen gasps on a sob when his foot is moved, his tears soaking into the material of Tony's shirt. The elder Stark hums quietly, the sound cracking and popping in his throat as the bed starts to slowly move out of the now destroyed bathroom, the wheels kicking up ash and igniting some leftover sparks. The fireman steps on the small flames with his dirty boots on the way out.

With his eyes half open, Tony can see the night sky appear above them as they are rolled out of the still smoking gas station, the impressive blackness of space getting framed by wisps of smoke, creating a hazy mirage sensation. Peter's unruly hair tickles his nose as the spiderling shifts against him, the smell of the fresh night air helping to rise him from his forced slumber.

He whimpers when the cot is carefully rolled down the curb, his wounds getting jostled as they bounce, Tony having to grit his own teeth as his skin burns. Raising on weak hand, the Billionaire cups his child's face, wiping his tears away with his thumb as they slide down. Peter sighs in relief, nuzzling into his father's touch, the red and blue lights of the paramedic team flashing into his closed eyelids as they get closer. Tony sees their rescuer slip silently away when they roll to a slow stop, the only reaction he gets to his huffed out "Thank you." being a humble smile and a slight tip of his helmet, before he disappears into the smoking building, his green eyes determined and focused.

". . . -ny! Oh god, Tony! Are you alright? Is Peter okay?"

Lifting his head up slightly, the superhero watches with blurry eyes as Happy tries to push closer, the Nurses now surrounding them cutting him off, one trying to take him by the arm and pull him away. His assistant is having none of it, ripping his arm out of the lady's grip and stumbling closer, gripping the metal edge of the bed in a knuckle white grip. A red soaked bandage is wrapped around his head, some of the liquid slipping from between his eyes and sliding down his face. His right eyes is almost swollen shut, a mass of black and purple bruising forming a ring of pain and puffiness. But still he glares at the medical personnels, his dark eyes flaring in anger.

"H'ppy, wha' ha'pen'?" Tony asks, his voice croaking and he swallows, throat clicking.

The normally grumpy man shifts, reaching up to wipe the blood from his forehead as he speaks. "I-I don't know, Tony. There was a man-a guy with blond hair and dirty clothes. He walked out of the store right after you and Peter went in, stumbling like a drunk. He walked back to h-his truck, and opened the door. Grabbed something-a box I think, and went back inside. I started to follow him, but someone hit me from behind, and I went down. The last thing I remember is my phone ringing and then the whole store went up in flames. . . "

Happy trails off, his eyes glazing over as he thinks back to the drastic turns of events. They stand there for a few seconds, no one speaking as Peter starts to squirm, his leg involuntary kicking out and hitting his ankle on the side of the cot. He screams, voice straining against his raw vocal cords as his chest arches in agony, fresh tears running down his inflamed cheeks. Clutching his baby closer, Tony rubs his trembling arms as he sobs, the Billionaire blinking his own tears back at the sound. Looking up quickly, Tony is grateful when Happy nods, his eyes haunted at the pain coming from his Nephew, communicating silently that they would discuss this later, when Peter was safe and not in pain.

A Doctor, his white coat free of the grim and soot that stains both father and son's suits, suddenly pushes past the standing man, reaching out with invasive hands toward the shivering boy, his blue eyes flashing in the lights. Peter, weakly opening his eyes when the man grabs his arms, lets out a whine of terror as he is forcefully pulled away from Tony, his burned fingers reaching out to grasp at his daddy shirt in panic.

"N-no! Get off of me! L-let me g-go please, let m-me go! _No_!"

Tony, finding strength he didn't know he possessed, pushes himself up, ignoring the aching in his bones, and grabs onto his child's waist, ripping the man's hands from around Peter's wrists as the boy cries. Snarling like an animal, the Billionaire tucks his son against his chest once more, running his fingers through his dirty hair as he glares at the doctor, eyes like a dark storm. The man, for his credit, only steps back once, hands raised in surrender as the genius growls below him, his brown hair tussled from the slight struggle.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we need to get your son moved into his own bed so we can transport you to the hospital." He says, reaching down to straighten his wrinkled coat when he sees that Tony isn't going to attack him.

" _Get away from us_." Tony rasps out, staring at the man, his eyes narrowed in hatred as Police Officer walks over, his hand-cuffs jingling against his waist with each step, the metal reflecting the flashing lights that surround them.

Breathing out a sigh of relief when the officer leads the protesting brunette away, the once playboy keeps his arms tight around Peter as he lays back again, not once closing his burning eyes, even as they become dry and itchy from the remain smoke emitting from the smoldering building a few yards away. Turning his head, Tony sees a young Doctor approach, her brown eyes warm when she steps up to them. Her name tag, swinging in time when her steps, reads _Allison,_ the ducks marking her coat a staring sight among the blackened air.

"Hello, Mr. Stark." She says, her voice soft. "I'm going to be your new Doctor. Lets get you and Peter into the Ambulance, alright?"

Tony opens his mouth, trying to force words out of his throat as it become increasingly dryer, the effort of yelling at the invasive man taking the last of his energy. Slumping back, he is relieved when Peter doesn't twitch, his child's rasping breathe warm against his neck. Luckily, Allison seems to notice his dilemma, because she is quick to elaborate.

"I am not going to try and separate you, Mr. Stark, and I am very sorry that Dr. Dean tried to." She reassures them, her brown eyes flashing in brief anger at the thought of her coworker.

Tony just nods weakly, feeling his eyes finally start to droop shut as two male Nurses walk of either side of the bed, kneeling down and grabbing the sides. The sound of metal clicking against metal is barely heard against the backdrop of sirens as more Police-cars reel past, tires squealing against the concrete. Peter sniffs, head starting to spin when they are lifted up, clutching his daddy's shirt for support and comfort.

"Daddy?" He asks weakly, voice like sandpaper and almost just as dry.

Tony shifts him impossibly closer, leaning down to kiss his overheated forehead, the teen whimpering at the feeling of love and protection that one motion fills his heart. The Billionaire doesn't respond verbally, making a quick motion with his hand for Peter to not talk. The younger Stark complies instantly, his face open and trusting when he leans against his dad. His beautiful brown eyes slide shut once again, his forehead scrunching up as he tries to ignore the blaring pain of his injuries.

His father watches him with worried eyes, barely listening to the chatter of the radio and the relentless beeping of the medical equipment as they are loaded into the ambulance. Happy hops in after them, turning to glare at a protesting Nurse when she steps forward. Taking a seat next to his friend and honorary Nephew, the man watches with guilty eyes as Doctors begin to prepare I.V.s for both Starks, opening small packs of needles and gauze.

The doors to the ambulance are slammed shut, the crack loud in the tight space. They start to roll forward, Peter's head bouncing against his daddy's chest as they move, his breathing uneven and heart thumping. Amiss all the machines and medical personnels, the Billionaire looks out, the small windows giving him just enough visibility to see the still smoking building get smaller and smaller away as they move.

People touch him, his arms and legs, his back and head, telling him to look left and right, up and down. They touch Peter too, tilt his baby's head back and check his eyes, lifting his eyelids up so that the whites are exposed, taking his pulse and writing it down on a chart. A needle is suddenly plunged into his thin arm, the tube releasing clear liquid into his son's blood stream. Tony jerks out on a instinct he can't ignore, grabbing the offending hand before the nurse can pull back, his teeth flashing in a warning. A beeping suddenly fills the small space, and Tony is held down gently. He fights with all of his limited strength, trying to put his body in front of his now still child's as his heart races with combined fear and anger, the trauma he has experienced disrupting his unusual common sense.

 _Protect. Protect. Protect._

A prick on his left arm shifts his focus for a split second, a coolness suddenly filling his veins. His eyes become unfocused and glassy, his movements slowing down as the drugs enter his system. His ears fog, sounds becoming squished as though underwater. He fights it for a second longer, opening his eyes one last time to look at Peter's sleeping face under his chin.

Tony sighs. Leans back.

He is unconscious before they even make it to the first traffic light.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here is Chapter 5! I hope you enjoy:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.**

The next few hours are a continuous blur of sights and sounds, the noise squeezing together and getting shoved into his ringing ears. Peter is a constant weight against his side, the feeling of his baby's chest rising and falling soothing his nerves. The Billionaire hears the sound of whooshing air as the Hospital's automatic doors open, the sound of the tires squeaking against the tile floor sending a sharp pain through his head. The rest of the memories are snapshots, as though taken with an old, digital camera, Tony's eyes opening and closing along with them.

 _Open._ Allison stands at the foot of their bed, her mouth moving but no words following. The bright light over head casts half her face in shadow, the yellow glowing around her brown hair like a halo. She holds a needle in one hand, her other reaching toward both Starks, her face becoming fuzzy the closer she gets.

 _Close._ Blackness. Numbness. Nothing.

 _Open._ Sounds run back to him suddenly, the noise ringing and roaring in his ears like a rushing river. A beeping has filled the Hospital room, the sound constant and getting more rapid as he breathes. The weight of Peter is suddenly pushed away from him, his child giving a low moan as he is carefully rolled into an extra cot, his own heart monitor starting to blare loudly as he squirms. Doctors crowd his bed, blocking Tony's view and making his growl as he hears his baby's sharp cry of pain and sniffling sobs. A male nurse, his skin dark and eyes apologetic, pushes the enraged father down as he struggles, his movements delayed and frantic. The same coolness fills the Billionaire's body once more, and he slumps back.

 _Close._ It seems that he floats in the sticky darkness of his mind for years, his own subconscious keeping him trapped in it's iron grip when all he really wants to do is get to his son. His protective instincts scream at him, telling him to _find protect find protect,_ but he can't break free of the drugs in his system, no matter how many times he tries. So, he just floats, knowing that Peter was not going to be allowed to leave his side when he wakes.

Blackness. Numb. Swirling in the dark, Tony waits and sleeps.

When his eyes snap open sometime later, the brightness that meets him blinds him, the light from the mid-day sun breaking through the open shades to his right. The genius blinks a few times, his dark eyes twitching this way and that way as he tries to get his bearings, the tub injected in his arm making a small tapping sound as it hits against the side of his bed. Stifling a groan, Tony slowly raise his head, pulling a clear breathing mask from under his nose with a pop, the beeping of his heart monitor beginning to rise as a thought runs through his brain.

 _Where is his baby?_

Breathing becoming harsh, Tony looks quickly to the side, a relieved sigh falling from his lips at the sight that greets his tired eyes.

Peter lays a few feet away from him, his beautiful eyes closed and breathes even. His broken foot is raised above him, the metal sling gleaming in the light of the incoming sun, the white bandages that are wrapped around the injury glowing. A similar bandage is wrapped around his head, the pale clothe dotted with drops of red from an injury neither of them noticed. A breathing mask, much like his daddy's, sits on his face, the small puffs of his exhale fogging the plastic. His hands, when Tony looks down at them, are reaching slightly out, as though he wanted to touch his father's as he slept, his red and bruised fingers curled around the bed post.

Feeling his parental instincts flare to life, the superhero carefully sits up, waiting with belated breathe for any sound of an alarm. But none comes, his and Peter's heart monitors almost in sink as they beep. Reaching over with slightly trembling hands, Tony grips his baby's cot, the metal cool against his skin, and starts pulling the bed forward. After a few seconds of no movement, it finally starts rolling, Tony shivering with the effort this took his battered body, but not giving up. A few more tugs, the sliver metal ringing as it hits his bed, and they are lined up, Peter's bruised face almost inches away from his own. Tony breathes out a sigh, reaching down and unclipping the frame of both of their beds. The sides fall down with a thump, Tony quickly reaching around the wires connected to his child and pulls him close, feeling some primal urge deep in his belly begin to settle down as he tucks his little boy against his chest, the Hospital gown wrinkling.

"How long have you been up?"

A voice startles the genius and he jumps a little, his fingers gripping his child tighter as he looks to his right. Happy stands there, his head still covered with bandages and eyes still swollen, face set in a practiced look of annoyance. But his dark eyes are shinning in concern and he leans closer, hand outstretched as though he wants to help.

"How long have you been awake, Tony?" His assistant asks again, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face when he blinks up at him.

Clearing his sore throat, the elder Stark rasps out a small "Not that long." Before a bout of coughing has him gasping for breathe, his chest heaving and eyes beginning to water. Happy lets out a curse, reaching over to grab a plastic cup from the nightstand a few feet away, holding it up to his boss's lips as the man wheezes. Taking a long sip, Tony nods his thanks as Happy pulls the now empty cup back, reaching under Peter's arms to pull him closer, his dark hair vivid against the white gown.

"What happened, Happy?" The Billionaire asks, running his fingers through his son's hair as his assistant shifts.

Letting out a puff of air, the driver leans against Tony's bed, the metal groaning slightly at the added weight. "Do you remember what I told you right before they put you and Peter into the ambulance?" Getting a quick nod, Happy continues. "Well, it turns out that the drunk guy-the blond one with the dirty shirt- name was Jason Mathews. He and couple of buddies were following you and Pete since the Charity Event-"

"That's the truck that blew past us at the stoplight." Tony says, and his friend nods, reaching up to itch at his wrapped up head.

"Yes, the Police traced the license plate from the video feed. They were following us the whole time. When they saw that you guys were going into the store together, without me, they ambushed us. The box that Mathews took out of his truck was explosives, homemade bombs that caught anything near it on fire. He must have set it right outside the bathroom door and detonated it from inside his truck. . ."

Turn his head to the side, Tony thinks for a second, his eyes watching the spots of light dance along the wall as he holds his baby. Happy scoots a step closer, rubbing the wrinkles out of his now dirty suit and tie as he waits for his boss to speak.

"But why did they do it?" The elder Stark asks, reaching down to press a quick kiss to Peter's forehead when he whines, his face contorted in sleep.

"We honestly don't know. The Police think that his father might have owned a company that you bought a few years back, _Mathews Mechanics,_ but he also could have just been a psychopath with a resentment toward Iron Man."

"You keep talking about him in past tense, Happy. Why?"

The man takes a deep breathe, and Tony tenses, waiting for the news as his heart monitor rises. "When the police caught up with the car, he and his team tried to run away. They had guns and started shooting at the Officers. The police had bullet proof vests, but the bad guys, well, they died filled with holes."

"All of them are dead?"

"Every last one."

Tony knows that he should feel some remorse for the lives lost, even if they tried to kill him and Peter, because no one deserves to die. But all he feels right now is a heaping sense of relief, the feeling soaking into his bones and making him dizzy in the afterglow. Because the bastards that hurt his baby are not longer able to get to him ever again. Burying his face into his child's hair, the genius breathes in his scent as the door to the room opens, soft footsteps echoing in the small room. Allison's voice fills his ears, but he blocks her out, tugging Peter closer and closing his still burning eyes, feeling his lungs expand with a wheeze as he inhales.

He stays like that until Peter wakes up hours later.

"Come on, Daddy! Hurry up, you are going to miss the beginning!"

Poking his head out of the bathroom doorway, Tony watches with warm and slightly wary eyes as Peter fidgets on their shared bed. With his broken leg still having to be held up by the sling, even after 3 days, the teen can barely move his lower body, his upper torso having to make up for the lack of motion. Turning around quickly, the Billionaire drys his hands on the towel hanging next to the small sink, carelessly putting it back up as his son whines at him again. He catches a glimpse of his reflection as he whirls past, his own face burned and bruised, the dark spots fading under his shirt. Grimacing, Tony walks out of the small room, frowning when he sees Peter trying to get out of bed.

"Alright, alright! I'm coming, sweetheart. Don't hurt yourself, okay?"

Giving a huff of annoyance, the teenager pouts, his brown eyes impossibly wide and bottom lip beginning to quiver. The burns on his face add to the effect and Tony feels his heart melt. Stretching out his arms, he wiggles his fingers in his daddy's direction, a whine falling from his throat when the Billionaire continues to frown in concern, walking over to the bed.

"But I want to cuddle! And we can't cuddle if you are all the way over there!" Peter argues, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his father's neck when he gets closer, burying his face in the man's chest and nuzzling his arc reactor.

Tony wraps his own arms around his child, leaning over and climbing into his side of the cot. Tugging the blanket up so that both of them are covered, the superhero kisses the top of Peter's head, making sure to wrap him up tight, knowing that the Hospital air causes his baby's body temperature to drop quickly. The teen just sighs in content, his still red fingers reaching up and fiddling with his daddy's black shirt as the man gets them settled. Reaching over, Tony carefully sets up the small, black television, propping it up on his knees and turning the volume up as the previews begin to play.

A loud bang from in the hallway causes both Starks to wince, Peter gripping his dad's arms tighter as his heart monitor begins to increase, Tony carefully curls his body around his little boy's as he watches the doorway, body tense for any kind of threat. The door opens slowly, and the Billionaire growls, eyes flashing and teeth bared. Doctor Allison, her hair slightly frazzled and slightly breathless, peaks in, the rainbows that adore her uniform glowing in the light of both the sun and lamps that line the ceiling.

"Do you need anything else, Mr. Stark?" She asks, holding out the popcorn that the man had requested a few minuets ago, her nails a light blue.

"No, thank you, Doctor." Tony responds, feeling Peter shake his head in negative against his chest, his breathing evening out when he sees that it is not a threat.

Without another word, Allison slips out of the room, only pausing once to smile gently at the pair, turning out the lights as she goes, the door closing behind her, the soft click as it rests against the frame the only sound for a few seconds. Letting out a breath, Tony sets the bowl of popcorn on his lap, the T.V. resting behind it, the screen paused as they get the bed ready. Reaching out with a trembling hand, Peter grabs a hand full of popcorn, popping a few pieces in his mouth as he relaxes back against his daddy's chest once again. Tony presses the play button, the beginning credits of Disney's _Tangled_ filling up the room.

Tony doesn't watch the movie for long though. Instead he watches Peter as he watches the movie, feeling his heart glow at every adorable expression that flies across his face, his big puppy dog eyes taking in the colorful cartoon as it plays across the screen.

 _My baby._ Tony thinks happily, pressing his lips against his little one's temple, Peter turning into the touch, his eyes never leaving the movie. His hands, however, entwine with his daddy's, and both Starks ignore the burning of their wounds as the clutch each other.

Tony knows that they still have a long way to go before they are healed, both physically and mentally. Peter, his leg being expected to be fine in a few weeks, still finches at any sudden noise, his eyes darting around the room when he thinks Tony isn't watching. Just last night, the Billionaire was woken up by the teen, his animalistic cries and screams echoing throughout the Hospital. It had taken hours for Tony to calm him down, holding him and whispering endearments into his ears as he sobs. . .

Shaking his head to clear the disturbing memories he knows will become his reality in a few hours, Tony is content to hold his little boy close, and bask in the certainty that the fuckers that did this to them are dead and gone.

And that, no matter what happens from now on, he will always be around to keep Peter safe. His baby will always come first, and nothing will even change that. Shifting them around slightly, the Billionaire gently strokes his child's cheek with his thumb, watching as he giggles at the green lizard on screen. He subconsciously curls further against his daddy, his head still nuzzled against his chest.

Tony just relaxes, his head falling forward against Peter's hair, the brown locks trickling his nose. Blinking his eyes open, the superhero watches the movie with his son, pressing soothing kisses against his head and cheeks every few seconds, Peter leaning into each one like a kitten.

And everything, at least at that moment, is okay.

 **A/N: This is the last Chapter of ASCTT, but I will be making this into a series, so don't worry! Thank you for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


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